


Family

by Captain_Ameriwoman



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad Parents, Dysfunctional Family, Engagement, Family Drama, Hidden Relationship, M/M, Mentioned Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and that friends is the summary of this fic, decent brothers, dorian is a good bf, mama trevelyan is not nice, mother of the year award
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-10-18 04:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10609302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Ameriwoman/pseuds/Captain_Ameriwoman
Summary: The Inquisition has been a welcome reprieve from the strife of the family estate in Ostwick. Gabriel Trevelyan has been able to behimselffor the first time in his life.He has good friends, an impressive job title, but the thing he's happiest about is his boyfriend, Dorian Pavus. He's already planning his proposal. There's only one problem: Josephine just received a letter from his mother, saying that the family is coming for a visit. Now Gabe has to deal with his unsupportive family on top of his duties as Inquisitor, while keeping his relationship with Dorian secret for as long as possible.It's going to be a long few weeks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, I still haven't finished Trespasser. Bought it when it released, and then went "I don't want to be done with this game" and just kinda... stopped playing?? Instead, I started another new character! I'm bad like that ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ but anyway this takes place before that (obviously) with shenanigans between the gang. And by shenanigans, I mean everyone is really protective of Gabe because they're all friends.

"Inquisitor!" Josephine says the second he steps foot into the room. 

"Yes?" Gabriel asks, stopping by her desk. He isn't sure if the woman's tone was more worry or excitement. 

"I just received a letter from your mother," the ambassador says. She taps an envelope on her desk and he feels his stomach flip. Even with the seal broken, he can tell it really _is_ from his family. 

"What is it?" he asks, frowning. He hasn't had any sort of contract with his family since they forced him to attend the Conclave. He had written them a letter to tell them he was alive after that, but he'd never gotten anything back. Unsurprising, at the time, seeing as the Chantry wanted him dead over the Divine’s death. But since he became Inquisitor, he had expected to hear from them long before now. 

"She said that your family is coming to see you," she says. Oh yes. That's definitely worry he hears in her voice. It seems she remembers what little he told her about his relationship with his family. 

  
_“Your family are nobles in the Free Marches, no?” Josephine asked. “We could contact them, ask them for support. They could influence other cities in the marches.”_

_Gabriel smiled back at her, somewhat forced. “I doubt it would work. My relationship with them is somewhat strained. They're devout Andrastians, and with everything the Chantry says about us…”_

_“Ah, I see. I'm sure I can find another family, Gabriel.”_  
  


"They're coming here?" he says, barely keeping the surprise and disbelief from his voice. "Did she say why?" 

"She said they wanted to make sure you were alright. I suspect, however, that it is because of your status as Inquisitor and the fact that you defeated Corypheus." 

"Of course that's why! They don't care about me until I do something that impacts the family name." He crosses his arms and scowls at the letter, shaking his head. 

"If I had a way to tell them they weren't welcome, I assure you I would. None of us here wish to see you uncomfortable." 

He nods. "Thank you, Josephine. I take it that the damn thing also says they already left, and that is why you can't tell them." 

"Indeed, Inquisitor. I honestly think your mother did it on purpose. It explicitly stated that she's writing it a week into their journey, apologizing that she didn't write sooner." 

"This is going to be a mess," Gabe sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Is there anything you want us to do?" she asks, voice filled with concern. 

"I don't think there's much to be done. I suppose we may as well try to make them feel welcome. You're good with this sort of thing, maybe a fancy dinner for the night they arrive?" 

Josephine nods with a smile. "How diplomatic of you. I'll see to it right away. I'll also try to think of anything else they may want." 

Gabe gives her a tired smile. "Thank you, Josephine. Hopefully they'll be better now that I am contributing to the family legacy, not just leaving a black smear on it." 

"Of course, Inquisitor. If you need anything, do not be afraid to ask." 

* * *

Gabe is pacing the length of the room when Dorian comes in. The atmosphere of their room is heavy and apprehensive and he can tell immediately that something is wrong. "Amatus?" he asks, words curling with worry. 

Gabe jumps and turns to face him. His eyes are red and damp and the smile he attempts is a poor one. "Hello, love," he says. 

"Gabriel, what's gone wrong now?" His tone is light, but it's not hard to tell he's worried. He walks over to his lover and takes his hands. 

"I'm just being stupid," he says, shaking his head. "It's nothing." 

"Anything that has you in tears is not nothing," he insists. "Tell me what's troubling you." 

"My family," he says, not meeting his eyes. "They're coming for a visit." 

Dorian's stomach drops. Gabe's family relationships are about as good as his own, with the added strain of unsupportive siblings. "Are you going to be alright?" he asks, thumb pad brushing the plain of his love's cheek. 

"Honestly?" Gabe says, looking up at him. "I don't know. This ruins my plans for the next few weeks." 

"Weeks?" 

"Do you know how badly it would reflect on us if I kicked my own family out after a few days? Even after a full week would be terrible." 

Dorian sighs. "Since when have you been one for appearances?" 

"Since every noble in Thedas has their eyes on us," Gabe says, shaking his head. He pulls him back and the two sit on their bed. "One wrong move and we're doomed." 

"That's what Mother Giselle said about me and look where we are now." 

Gabe huffs, and Dorian can see a slight smile on his face. "I suppose. But I've dealt with them for my entire life. What's another few weeks?" 

"We'll see how you feel about that once they arrive," he says, placing a kiss to the crown of the other man's head. "And what were these plans of your's?" 

Gabe looks away again and runs a hand through his hair. Accompanying his discomfort is the start of a blush. "This isn't really what I imagined, love. Are you sure you can't just wait?" 

Dorian raises an eyebrow. "These plans have to do with me then? Well, now you have my curiosity, dear Inquisitor." 

Gabe goes even redder. "Close your eyes then, if you must know," he says, shaking his head. 

Dorian complies, and feels his love get off of the bed. He can hear light footsteps walk over to the desk before pausing and walking back over. "You can open your eyes now," he says. 

Dorian does as much and gasps in surprise, a hand shooting up to cover his mouth. This _can't_ be what he meant; he _must_ be imagining it. 

Gabe is down on one knee in front of him, dark green eyes staring up at him. His blush ranges across his face, to his ears, and even down his neck. In one hand, he's holding a finely crafted metal ring. He probably made it himself, sentimental arse. 

He clears his throat and Dorian blinks tears from his eyes. By the Maker, this can't be happening. There's no way this is what he thinks it is. It can't be. It just can't. No one would ever- 

“Dorian, I want to say that you are the best thing that's ever happened to me,” Gabe says. His words are strong, more confident than how he looks. “Since we met, I knew that maybe, _maybe_ I could actually do something with my life instead of trying to deal with my family's expectations of me. You have inspired me to be the best version of myself possible, day in and day out. 

“That's not to mention how much you do for me other than that. You are more of an anchor for me than the mark on my hand. You have been there for me throughout everything the Inquisition has gone through. Not only that, but you've been there for _me_ ,” he says, eyes beginning to water himself. “Through doubting myself as a leader, as a friend, as a lover, you've always known exactly what to say or what to do. You've helped me in so many ways, and I can barely imagine that I've done anything even remotely similar for you, but I love you, Dorian. I love you more than I've loved anyone or anything else in my entire life. 

“You are the kindest, smartest, and most loyal person I have ever had the pleasure to call my friend, much less my lover, my boyfriend. And, if you'd let me, my fiancé and husband.” Gabe blinks up at him and takes a deep breath. “Dorian Pavus, would you marry me?” 

Dorian feels his heart skip in his chest. “Me? Are you certain?” he says. He can't believe that anyone as wonderful as _Gabriel_ would want to be tied down to someone like _him_ for the rest of their life. 

Gabe nods. “If you'll have me.” 

Dorian nods back, unable to speak through the waterfall of emotions suddenly hitting him. He's crying but he doesn't care because Gabe is sliding that ring onto his outstretched finger. He doesn't care if this is just a dream because life's too short to care and for once in his life, he's happy. He's happy, actually, properly _happy_ for the first time in his life and it's because of the man kneeling in front of him. His best friend, his lover, his _fiancé_. His amatus, now and forever. 

Gabe stands, and Dorian can see the blush that's riding high on his cheeks. “You know, I was _planning_ on taking you to Orlais. We'd have dinner at some ostentatious restaurant, then head back to wherever we were staying. Then I'd propose. Wasn't supposed to go like this,” he says, brushing hair from his face. 

“Gabriel, you act like I care where you proposed,” he says, standing and pulling the other closer. “I just care that you did.” He drops his forehead onto Gabe’s shoulder, and after a second, arms come to wrap around him. 

“I love you,” Gabe says after a moment of silence. 

Dorian looks up at that and smiles. It's a watery thing, but he doesn't care. Not when the cause is something so phenomenal. “I love you too,” he replies, before kissing his partner. When they break for air, they stay pressed together, foreheads touching and noses brushing against each other's. 

“When I joined the Inquisition, you made me feel welcome,” Dorian starts quietly. “Not like a freak or a power-hungry maleficar like everyone else. You dragged me along on all of your excursions and teased me whenever I complained about the climate. But you always made sure it wasn't a step too far, that you hadn't crossed a line. It was something I wasn't used to, nor something that I expected from people brought up down south. 

“But the flirting? Oh, I knew how to deal with that. Easy, familiar little jests and self-flattering remarks. I suppose I was preening, in a way. Showing off. I _wanted_ you to like me. But after Redcliff and my father, our first kiss… 

“I meant what I said back then, after our first time being intimate. This is entirely new to me and it's more than a little frightening, to have such a commitment after spending so long alone. But I wouldn't change a damn thing. Everything could go to hell but I'd be happy so long as I don't lose you too.” 

Gabe’s eyes are watering again, but he knows it's for a completely different reason than when he first came in. “When I was a child, there used to be this book that Wyatt read to Scarlett and I before bed sometimes,” he says after a moment, his words slow and dripping with fondness. “At one point, one of the characters was talking to their best friend. He said, _if you live to be a hundred, I want to live to a hundred minus one day so I don't have to live in a world without you._ I never thought that I'd have anyone like that in my life. Not a friend, and much less a lover. But that's how I feel about you, Dorian.” 

Dorian smiles. “A noble sentiment, for a children’s story. But I do see one problem with it.” 

“Oh?” 

“If that's how you feel about me, what happens when I feel the same about you?” 

“Well, I suppose we'll just be immortal then. Or we could both die at the same time.” 

“With the sort of things you get involved in, that might just happen. Doubt we'll make it to a hundred, though.” 

“However long we have, I want to spend it with you.” 

“Likewise, Amatus. But enough talk, today has been long, and obviously emotional. We should go to bed.” Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows at that, and Dorian laughs as he pushes him away. “Not like that. Maybe tomorrow, but I'm simply exhausted. I refuse to give you anything less than my best performance!” 

Gabe laughs as well. “By the Maker, I love you Dorian.” 

“And I love you, Gabriel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the proposal scene took me forever to write (fun fact: I started it in 2015, then got distracted), but I really like it. And brownie points for anyone who can figure out where that quote's from.  
> Constructive criticism is appreciated!
> 
> And hey, I've got a [tumblr](http://captainameriwoman.tumblr.com/), come chat with me. But also I suck at replying because I get stupid-smiley and flustered when people say nice things so, be warned~


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel spends the next several days in an odd state of emotion: 

He's absolutely elated that Dorian accepted his proposal, and just thinking about it makes him smile and something warm blooms in his chest. 

He can go from that to nearly in tears when something or someone reminds him of what's just on the horizon. In a way, his family’s arrival has him more scared than Corypheus did. The scars on his back ache, an odd phantom pain that he does his best to ignore. 

When his family finally arrives, Gabriel has to remember how to breathe. He hasn't seen them in such a long time, and none of them wrote during. His only solace is that he has his advisors at his side to greet them. 

His mother looks just like he remembers: graying hair, braided along both sides of her head before joining at the nape of her neck; wearing what he's positive are her nicest clothes, the ones she only ever wore to the Chantry to pray; and a face covered in wrinkles from years of frowning and scoldings. It's… _unusual_ to see her smiling, much less at him. 

His father is much the same, just shorter hair and he has the same stony face Gabe is used to. Wyatt… Well, Wyatt has grown a beard. That's new. His brother used to be permanently clean-shaven, nothing past a five o’clock shadow. His hair, thankfully, is the same as always. Cut close to his head, only just able to tell it's brown like everyone else in their family. The smile his older brother sends him is genuine, though, and he can't fathom why. 

He doubts anyone here actually likes him, except _maybe_ Jackson. And really, that's because of both his mother’s hatred of him rubbing off, and the kid’s own teenage apathy. He certainly looks bored out of his mind. 

The whole ordeal isn't helped by the Orlesian nobility everywhere in the hall. They act like they're not paying attention, but they'd be absolute fools not to be. He's played the Game. He knows how these things work. 

But he's _played the Game_. He's not going to give them anything. At least, not unless his mother does something excessive. Then, he thinks, he might care less about the Inquisition and more about his sanity. Josephine would be able to deal with the fallout, he's sure. 

“Gabriel!” his mother says, once she's close enough. She opens her arms and sweeps him into a hug. “Oh, my darling son, you don't know how worried I've been. All this terrible business with that darkspawn and his dragon,” she says. She pulls back, only to press a kiss to his forehead after brushing his hair out of the way. “You don't know how proud I am of you.” 

Gabriel feels as if he might throw up then and there. This is everything he ever wanted as a child, and he knows in his heart she's putting on as much of a show as he is. This is worse than dancing with Florianne, worse than making the decision to let Celene die. Harder even, maybe, than fighting Coryphaeus. 

Too many people watching, though, for him to empty his stomach. And he would _hate_ for someone to have to clean that up. Instead, he smiles as widely as he can. “I'm fine, mother. The doctors tell me I've never been in better health.” 

“You certainly look it, little brother,” Wyatt says. “Being the Inquisitor must be some workout.” 

“Nothing better than running around in the countryside after people trying to end the world,” he returns. They shake hands, and the smile doesn't fall from Wyatt’s face through any of it. 

After, he and his father shake. The man gives him a begrudging “job well done” before pushing Jackson forward. 

“Congrats on not dying,” his younger brother says, crossing his arms. 

Gabe barely refrains from rolling his eyes. “Thanks, kiddo. It's a talent I take pride in.” Jack smiles, just slightly, but it's enough. 

Before any of his family can say anything, he takes the moment to introduce his friends. 

“Everyone, I would like you to meet my advisors. Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador.” She bows slightly before going back to taking notes on the meeting. “Ser Cullen Rutherford, commander of our forces.” He bows his head, and Wyatt seems somewhat surprised. “Sister Leliana is in charge of our more _sensitive_ matters.” Leliana smiles brightly, with venom in it, as she bows. It would send a chill up his spine if it were directed at him. “And Cassandra Pentaghast, who helped form the Inquisition.” Cassandra doesn't bother to bow, just gives a terse smile and nod. 

It occurs to him that none of his advisors have met his family, past Cullen and Wyatt. It's nice to know that they believe him when he said their relationship was strained. 

“A good group of people. I trust they're to thank for keeping you safe?” his mother asks. 

“The Inquisition wouldn't exist without them, and they all do their part. They make sure I don't take one more than I can handle. So yes, I'd say they are,” Gabe replies. 

Before his mother can say anything, they're interrupted by a messenger. She kneels in front of him, and he can see his mother's face flicker to distaste for a moment before being quickly replaced by her fake smile once more. 

“I'm so sorry to intrude, my lord, but an important visitor just arrived from Orlais,” she says, glancing up at him. 

“More important than seeing my family for the first time in months?” _Anything is more important than that_ , his mind provides. He bites his cheek to keep himself in check. 

“I hate to say it, serrah, but yes. It's- It's the Divine, Inquisitor. She's here.” 

Gabe barely keeps himself from biting _through_ his cheek at that news. “By the Maker… Josephine, would you show my family around and to their quarters? I need to meet her,” he says as Liz rises. 

“Of course, Inquisitor,” Josephine says, looking just as shocked as he feels. 

Leliana, on the other hand, doesn't. Smug, actually. “I'll help. Commander, Cassandra, why don't you go see to Divine Victoria with the Inquisitor?” 

The two nod, and the messenger quickly leads the way away from his parents. “What the hell is going on?” he hisses, teeth clenched. 

“Leliana said she wrote to someone important, just after Josie got your mother’s letter. This would explain who,” Cassandra says. 

“Leliana wrote to the Divine? Why?” Cullen asks, incredulous. 

“To remind my family of how much power I have,” Gabe says, looking to Cassandra who only nods. “And Vivienne has always said she wanted to meet my parents.” 

“Well, she's certainly going to get her wish,” she mutters. 

Gabriel can't help but agree; it's always been a dream of his mother’s to meet the Divine. She'll beg until he lets her. Like everything else about this visit, it'll be torture. 

* * *

Dorian has sequestered himself in his little reading nook in the library, hoping to avoid Gabriel’s family for as long as he possibly can. It's one thing to meet the parents, it's another when he knows they'll hate him on principle. Not to mention it was something of a silent agreement between him and Gabe that they would keep their relationship under wraps for their stay here. 

He looks at the ring Gabe gave him less than a week ago, hidden amongst the several others. It's a simple thing, a little gold dragon curled around his finger. It's eating it's own tail. Gabe had blushed when he asked him about it the morning after he proposed. He smiles fondly at the memory, fingers running over the band. 

  
_“So, is there any reason you chose this design?” Dorian asked, looking over at Gabriel. They'd only just gotten dressed from last night, and Dorian was lingering on the newest addition to his daily wear._

_Gabe nearly tripped over himself as he pulled his boots on. For a man so graceful in battle, his lover gets oh-so clumsy when he's flustered. “Well, uh, there's a few,” he said, offering a small shrug._

_Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Such as?” he pressed._

_“Dorian, please.”_

_“Amatus, we're getting_ married. _I want to know about my ring. There's nothing to be ashamed of.”_

_Gabriel sighed, and came to sit next to him on their bed. “Fine. The dragon itself has a couple things to it. I thought it would be nice to relate it to your culture. Dragons are big in Tevinter, and all that. Not just that, though. I've dragged you on enough dragon hunts that I figured it could be a symbol of what we've been through. And that's why it's biting its tail. That old alchemy thing, about a never-ending cycle. I- I, uh, like to think of this as-” He awkwardly gestured between the two of them, loosing the word._

_“_ Infinite, _” Dorian finished. “Gabriel, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”_

_Gabe blushed, but nothing like it was last night. “I love you Dorian. In this life, and any one after.”_

_“I thought you weren't religious?”_

_“I'm not, but there's always a chance. Reincarnation seems like as good a possibility as anything.”_

_Dorian smiled, and cupped his fiancé’s cheek. “I feel the same, amatus,” he said, pulling him into a kiss._  
  


His attention is pulled away by noise coming from the stairwell. He looks up to see Josephine and Leliana coming up, a group of people following behind. 

They're dressed properly, like any of the nobles the Inquisition has entertained. But there's enough of a resemblance to his lover to know who these people are: Gabriel's family. 

He considers, briefly, leaving; a casual smile as he passes them to go down the stairs. Then he shakes himself of the thought. He refuses to be put off by people he will soon be related to. 

Josephine glances at him, and he flashes her a smile. She seems exasperated already, and by the way Leliana looks delighted to see him, he can imagine why. As such, it's Leliana that steers them towards his nook. 

He sets the book he's reading aside and rises elegantly to meet them. Josephine looks slightly ill, even as she pulls herself together to introduce him. “It is my pleasure to introduce you all to-” she starts, and he figures he'll save her the trouble. 

“Dorian Pavus,” he says, taking Mrs. Trevelyan’s hand and bringing it to his lips. He enjoys her smile for the second it's there before continuing. “Current arcane advisor to the Inquisitor, and next in line for my father’s seat in the Imperial Magisterium. It's a pleasure to meet you all.” 

Gabriel’s mother doesn't exactly snatch her hand from his grasp, but he can tell that was the intent. The way she hides her glare reminds him of home. 

Josephine shoots him a look before speaking. “Lord Pavus, these are the Inquisitor's parents and brothers.” 

“Parents, truly?” he says, feigning surprise. “I would have thought you to be not much more than an older sister.” 

“You flatter me,” his mother says. “But I know I'm starting to show my age.” 

“Ridiculous. Nevertheless, It's an honor to meet the people who raised such an exceptional young man as the Inquisitor.” 

She smiles at him and Leliana quickly regains control of the conversation. “Dorian has been a large help to the Inquisition, since its infancy. We are lucky to have such a talented man here. He brings a perspective to our operations that is unique to southern Thedas.” 

“I can see why,” says Gabriel’s father. 

Dorian gives nothing but a hum and a smile at the man. “Your son has been incredibly welcoming. But that's enough about me, I'm sure there's much more of Skyhold you've yet to see. Our Lady Ambassador has gotten quite adept at giving a grand tour at this point.” 

“Dorian is right, we should continue on, or we may be late to dinner,” Josephine says. She begins herding the group towards the stairs to the rookery, but Leliana hangs back. 

“You didn't mention your relationship with Gabriel,” she says quietly. 

“No, I didn't.” 

“Why?” 

“We haven't discussed it. I won't tell them anything unless he's completely comfortable with them knowing.” 

She nods. “And when you're sending out invitations? What will you say?” 

His eyes widen minutely. “How did-?” 

“I was notified when he asked Harritt for help making the ring. And you're wearing it on your ring finger,” she explains easily. 

He sighs. “We'll tell his parents when we tell them. Until then, it isn't anyone else's place to say.” 

“I'll make sure everyone stays quiet about it,” she says. “But I should go. I don't want to miss the fire when they meet Sera.” 

“You _wouldn't_.” 

“They asked to meet everyone important to Gabe. Who am I to deny them?” 

“Incredible. Do try not to break them, though.” 

“No promises,” she says, leaving him. 

He shakes his head at her retreating form. They really should have anticipated she would know about their engagement. He's just happy she didn't try to pressure him into getting Gabe to tell them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to update this every other week, just in an effort to give myself enough time to write the next chapter. I have a skeleton plan for where this is headed, though, so it should be fine (knock on wood).  
> Also, Gabe totally gave Dorian that title just so people would shut up about having a Tevinter mage so close to him.  
> 
> 
> As always, feel free to comment or talk to me on [tumblr](http://captainameriwoman.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriel never expected someone to be able to make frumpy Chantry robes look good, and yet Vivienne does. Honestly, the woman can make anything look elegant. 

Sometimes he forgets she's the Divine now. He's so used to just being able to walk to her little balcony and talk with her whenever he wanted. When he's distracted, he finds himself walking there to ask her for advice before he remembers she’s away in Orlais. 

It's also hard to force himself to think of his friend as Divine Victoria - she's just Vivienne. Well, not _just_ , she's never _just_ anything, but that's besides the point. She's his friend. 

He's not used to the Templars, the _Knights-Divine_ , standing at her side, or the giant hat that makes him feel short next to her. But he can deal with it because _she's his friend_. And that's what's important. 

He catches sight of her coming down the stairs, and he smiles briefly when she looks up at him. She returns the smile - polite thing but genuine. 

It's more than he can say for his mother. 

“Most Holy,” he says, bowing to her. “It's my pleasure to have you back in Skyhold.” 

“Inquisitor,” she says in reply, and he straightens. “It's my privilege to be here, visiting one of my oldest and dearest friends. I am sorry for the dreadfully short notice, we were passing through and I thought I'd see how everything was going.” 

“Well, my family is here,” he says, somewhat strained. Cullen huffs next to him. “I'm sure they'll be delighted to be in the same place as the Divine herself.” 

She nods, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I'd love to speak to them before we must leave. But enough of formalities, walk with me. Just the two of us.” 

“Most Holy, are you sure that's a wise idea?” one of the Knights-Divine asks, looking at Gabriel with disdain. 

“I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Joseph, we all know this. And the Inquisitor would be a fool to try something. Which he isn't, or we wouldn't be wasting our time here. Now, I'm sure Commander Rutherford or Seeker Pentaghast could find something productive for you to do, other than worrying about me.” She waves them off and Gabriel watches them go, impressed. 

“I thought you weren't supposed to do that?” he says, as she begins to lead them through Skyhold. 

She huffs. “I'm the Divine, darling, I can do a great many things. And as a mage, even more so. I might not be supposed to, but they're nothing more than a technicality at this point. For display.” 

“So you don't like them? I thought you thought Templars were important to mage safety.” 

“I _like_ them just fine. I got to hand-pick each of them, most of whom I already knew from the Circle in Montsimmard. They're all lovely people, but sometimes they go a step too far in their worry. Not only do they have to protect me from threats in our reality – people who don't believe a mage should be Divine, or think that my reforms are unfitting for the Chantry – they also must worry about threats from the Fade. It's unlikely for me to be possessed, of course, but there's a concern nonetheless.” 

“It wouldn't go down well, I'm sure.” 

She smiles. “No, I'm sure it would be delightful. The clerics would have a _lovely_ little chuckle at being proven right.” 

Gabriel shakes his head with a laugh. He's forgotten how much he enjoyed just talking with her. “I suppose you'd know them better than I,” he replies. 

She gives him a small roll of her eyes. “Regardless of all that business, how have you been, my dear? I can't imagine things have gotten too much easier now that Coryphaeus has been defeated.” 

“It's just… It's a lot of writing. Long letters to nobles and short statements to little towns and even just signatures on operations. I'm amazed I don't have a permanent hand cramp.” 

Vivienne levels a Look at him, like she knows he's avoiding the subject. Well, of course she knows. She's Vivienne. She's always been good at reading people. It probably comes from growing up in Orlais - and _he's_ not even wearing a mask. 

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It's not that different. I don't run around after Venatori in the middle of the desert anymore. I don't slog through swamps trying to find and kill demons so they stop bothering townsfolk. 

“But the paperwork is still there, the pressure is still there. I try to ignore the letters for as long as possible seeing how boring it all is. I try to avoid most of the visiting nobles and dignitaries and representatives. I don't want to accidentally say something wrong. I wasn't raised to be the head of the house, and this is leagues beyond even that.” 

“You're handling it well for having no prior experience,” she says. “Looking at you now, I would never think you weren't made for this. You're astonishing, Gabriel. The stress is to be expected. The important part is how you handle it.” 

“What if I'm not?” 

Vivienne scoffs. “You'd have buckled under the pressure within a week if that was the case. Have more faith in yourself.” 

“I try. It's hard sometimes. There's so much that could go wrong and to think that I have all the answers… It's just _hard_.” 

“You're not here because it's been easy, darling. You're here because it was hard and you were the last one standing. You had a mountain dropped on you and you came back. You've walked in the Fade and lived to tell. You mastered the Imperial Court with nothing but your wit and charm. You revealed the truth about Inquisitor Ameridan, regardless of society's expectations. You are infinitely more capable than you seem to think, which is something I find immeasurably tragic.” 

“Yes, well, I'm sure you'll be able to see why once you meet my mother,” he says with a huff. 

“Perhaps,” she says. 

They lapse into silence for a moment, Gabriel feeling decidedly more self conscious than he had at the start of this. Vivienne speaks again first. “While this has been delightful, my dear, if we dither much longer Joseph and the rest will start to worry.” 

He nods. “It was nice speaking with you again.” 

“You as well. But, Gabriel, I'm not lying when I say you should trust in yourself. It may be cheesy, but it _is_ true. If you don't believe in yourself, how can you expect others to?” 

Gabriel watches her leave in stunned silence. Speaking like that, he's reminded of why he fought so hard to get her to be Divine in the first place. She's got the exact sort of wisdom the Divine should have. 

He just never expected her to lecture him, at least not about _that_. 

* * *

Dinner that night is as stressful as any Orlesian one Gabe has ever been to. The Orlesians are all over his family, clamoring for even a chance at finding out what he was like as a child. His mother is more than happy to oblige. She spins stories of a mischievous young boy with a brilliant mind, who grew up to do great things. 

He's also a devout Andrastian and ladies’ man. 

He snorts when he overhears that, much to Josephine’s chagrin. He's just thankful that he's grown up in the Chantry so he can fake it well enough that, publicly, his mother's not wrong on the religion front. 

The relationships, though? Well, there's a reason his engagement ring is on a chain under his shirt instead of his finger. Dorian can hide it amongst his other jewelry, he doesn't have that option. People would talk if the Inquisitor got engaged, not just his mother. 

He and Dorian’s relationship isn't exactly a secret, he's not ashamed of Dorian by any means, it's just neither of them are fond of expressing themselves in public. Bull said something about psychological trauma from bad experiences in their pasts, which might be true, but Gabe prefers to think it's a personal choice about privacy. And even if they did things in public more often, people only see what they want. He's gotten enough inquiries to whether he was single or not, _immediately_ after having a dance with Dorian, to know that it doesn't really matter. 

So he won't say he's hiding things from his people. His family, however, is a different story. He knows _exactly_ how they would react to him and Dorian, and he doesn't wish that on his lover. He'd rather not have to experience it again, but that’s mostly because of what happened when he was sixteen. 

Liam, the first boy he did anything with, moved without notice. His whole family just packed up without notice and left for Tantervale. A few weeks later, he got a letter from his parents said he'd died during a mage’s harrowing gone wrong. He had Leliana look into it; turns out he's not only still alive, but he's engaged to one of the Chantry sisters he met up there. 

But Ostwick was that sort of place. It explains his parents’ beliefs, to be sure. 

When the meal actually starts, Gabriel finds himself between his advisors and his family. His mother is to his left, while Josie is to his right. He's used to this set up for visits from miscellaneous nobility, but being so close to his mother after so long is odd. Sitting down for something that resembles, even vaguely, a family dinner more so. 

After they've been served, his mother is immediately leaning towards him. “While I was talking, some of your other guests said they'd heard you were in a relationship. Is there something you need to tell me?” 

Gabe bites back a sigh. “Mother, _please_ ,” he says. “I'm too busy to-” 

“Oh, don't lie to me. I know you would make time for a special lady. So who is it?” 

“Mother, if I had a woman in my life, I would tell you,” he says. And he would, not that it’d ever happen. 

She huffs. “Well, I suppose they could have been mistaken. But you should be looking, plenty of the women here would be a good fit for you.” 

“Like who?” He'll humor her, if only because he's curious to see who she thinks he'd get on with. 

“Well, your ambassador is rather attractive. And she comes from a good, notable family.” 

He barely keeps himself from snorting at that. It figures her idea of a “good fit” would be influential and wealthy. “Josephine _is_ a lovely woman, but she's already in a relationship with someone else.” He's just happy that the woman in question is currently having her own conversation with Leliana. 

“The Lady Seeker, then. You two obviously have similar interests, I've heard about you taking her with you on your expeditions.” 

“Cassandra isn't looking to be in a relationship. Married to her work, you could say. She, uh, has big plans for the Templar Order after everything that happened.” 

“Such as?” 

“Oh, just a few renovations. She and the Divine have been discussing things. The biggest change I've been informed of is banning the Rite of Tranquility and the Harrowing.” 

He delights in the way his mother’s face scrunches up. Her voice is pitched higher than normal when she speaks. “That's certainly… _drastic_. Fitting, seeing the sort of people you've surrounded yourself with lately.” 

“You were _just_ trying to set me up with two of them, mother,” he says, keeping his tone even. “I thought you approved.” It's a challenge, one that he doesn't mean to let slip. He regrets it the second he sees the steel set behind his mother's eyes. 

“Forgive me if I think some of your decisions were poorly thought out,” she says. “You trust too much, too quickly. Letting the mages join the Inquisition without any safeguards in place…” She shakes her head. 

“Sometimes you need to trust someone in order to let their potential shine through.” 

“Too much trust could result in a catastrophe.” 

“Scarlet was with them.” It's not _exactly_ true, his sister had parted ways with them after the deal with Alexius, but it's worth it to see the way his mother’s face pales. “Do you not trust your own daughter?” 

“I _trust_ that she's been taught well by capable teachers under the careful watch of the Templars,” his mother snaps. He's reminded, somewhat painfully, of her lectures when he was younger. “You're acting recklessly, with no thought to what could happen in the future. The Chantry set things up as they are for a reason. It's not our place to mess with that.” 

He bites his tongue, stopping himself from escalating this into a full argument. The Chantry managed to keep mages under their thumb through instilling fear in the masses, but that's not the sort of thing one says to their mother over dinner. 

He lowers his head. It's been his way of stopping her rants for over twenty years now. He sees her lean back, a small smile on her face as she does. “Change is one thing, Gabriel, making foolhardy decisions is another.” 

“Yes, mother.” 

The conversation shifts to how things were at home, and Gabe finds himself tuning out of most of it. Josephine keeps his mother occupied well enough. One conversation with the woman and he's already exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The working title of this was "I Can't Write Vivienne, RIP Me" Like I love her but oml she has such a distinct speech pattern?? Help


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel has buried himself in paperwork. He's gotten a backlog since Corypheus was beaten, and he's managed to make a dent in it. Sure he's only doing it because he's avoiding his parents, but that's unimportant. 

Josephine certainly won't complain about it. 

He's halfway through a letter to Emperor Gaspard, possibly the only Orlesian noble he enjoys corresponding with, when he hears a knock at his door. He groans and sets his head on the desk. If he ignores them, they might go away. The messengers know to just come up unless he's given specific instructions not to, so it can't be _overly_ important. 

His hopes are dashed when the knock comes again, more aggressive than the last. He pushes himself away from his desk, putting his quill down, and makes his way down the stairs and to the door. 

He opens the door and braces himself for another of his mother's onslaughts of _how could you be doing such things, you're going against every principle our family has stood for_. She's the only one so far to bother coming to his private quarters to speak to him, and then dragging him away to point out just what she's disappointed with this time. 

He’s not prepared for the sight of Wyatt getting ready to knock again, and he flinches out of instinct. 

“Gabe!” Wyatt says, pulling his hand back quickly. “I was starting to think that I’d been lied to about where you'd gone off to.” 

“Just writing. Gaspard wants to go hunting,” he says with a shrug. 

Wyatt’s eyes widen slightly at that before he relaxes into a smile. “My little brother, hunting with the Orlesian Emperor. I knew you could do great things, but I didn't really expect that.” 

Gabe knows Dorian would be proud of how easily he hides his surprise at that. “Did you need something?” he asks, leaning on the doorframe. 

“I just wanted to talk to you. _Without_ mother hovering,” he replies. “You know how she is. Wants to know everything that's going on.” 

Gabe just nods and steps back into the hall to the stairs. His brother gets the hint and follows him in, closing the door behind him. 

He looks around the hall, including the drop off the edge. “This is a pretty nice place you've got, Gabbie,” he says. 

Gabe stills for a second at the use of the old nickname. Maker, he hasn't been called that since before Scarlett was taken to the Circle. “You haven't even seen my room yet,” he says, covering up his unease. “We can talk on the balcony. The view is impressive.” 

“Every view in this place is.” 

Gabe hums in reply, and starts up the stairs. Letting Wyatt into his personal quarters makes him uncomfortable, hyperaware of everything that's out of place. The papers scattered across his desk, ink staining his first few drafts of his letter to Gaspard. His quill has dripped onto the wood, just adding to the stain from the number of times he's put it there. His bed is unmade from when Dorian was here last night. There are shirts hanging out of his wardrobe, Dorian critiquing his clothes for the umpteeth time: _How do you still not have anything that's not grossly casual or overly formal?_

Wyatt doesn't say anything, just following him out to the balcony. Gabe leans against the railing. There's a slight breeze and he inhales deeply. It's always been calming to him to be outside, and while this isn't perfect, it's better than being cooped up inside for this. 

“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asks after a beat of silence. 

“How are you holding up?” Wyatt says without hesitation. “ _Realistically_ , not what you say to keep people from worrying about their beloved Inquisitor. This has been a huge change for you. I know you're not, uh, _fond_ of the Chantry and now you're the Herald of Andraste? That can't have been easy on you, little brother.” 

Gabriel sighs. “I went from being called a heretic, wanted for the murder of the Divine, to the savior of Thedas with influence on who the new Divine would be. It's a _bit_ of a change.” 

“ _Gabriel_ ,” Wyatt says. He remembers that tone from when they were in the Chantry together. Disapproving of the way he says things, either too light or too serious. Avoiding information. 

“Maker, what do you _want_ me to say, Wyatt?” he snaps, looking at his brother. “That I've had a spiritual awakening with the Inquisition? That I've accepted that Andraste herself chose me? Because that's all crap, and you know it. 

“The Chantry is a corrupt institution that fosters the fear of the masses in order to keep power over mages. But things are changing, and the Inquisition, _I_ , am at the head of it. You might not like it, mother might not like it, but honestly? I don't fucking care at this point.” 

Wyatt stares at him for a second in shock before he smiles again. “So, I take it this has been good for you, then?” 

“ _What?_ ” 

“You never would have said that sort of thing at home,” Wyatt says with a shrug. “You were always quiet and you just agreed with everything after a while. You never gave your opinion on anything.” 

“You never had mother harping on your every action,” Gave mutters. “And you weren't exactly supportive of my ideas when I did share.” 

Wyatt looks cowed at that. “I wasn't trying to-” 

“What, destroy my self-esteem? _Maker, Gabe, why can't you just agree with the sisters instead of making a scene? You're embarrassing me_. Do you remember that? Because I do.” 

“That was right before my transfer to Kirkwall, you know I was just trying to make a good impression.” 

“What about when you caught me with Liam?” 

Wyatt is quiet for a while and Gabe can feel the tension in the air. “I don't have a reason for that,” Wyatt says softly. “I didn't understand why you wanted to do that sort of thing with another guy. Honestly, I still don't. But whenever I think about it now, I know I overreacted. The two of us could have dealt with it by ourselves. I shouldn't have gotten mother without at least hearing what you had to say.” 

“Do you know what she did?” Gabe asks, voice flat as he turns back to look out at the mountains. The memory still stings, just like the belt across his back that day. He won't tell Wyatt about that; he would never believe she'd go to such an extreme. But what she said? Wyatt should know. 

“She told me I would go to hell. I was the sort of person the Maker would hate, that I was the reason he left us. She said that if I didn't get my act together, I would bring ruin to not only the Tevelyans, but also the Kaisers. It was the first time I'd ever heard her talk about her family other than where our names came from. You know how she gets about them.” 

He shakes his head and fights against the tears that are threatening to spill. “She compared me to you,” he says, voice breaking. “She asked why I couldn't just be like you. A proud Templar, who all the Chantry mothers and sisters adored. You had a girlfriend then; mother was hoping it would lead to marriage. Even though it didn't, you'll still have children, carry on the family legacy. If I was with another man, it would destroy that. _Just be like your brother, I'm sure even you could manage that._ That's what she said before she kicked me out of the house.” 

His breathing shudders, hard, and he closes his eyes as he feels tears slide down his cheeks. He hates being like this, much less around Wyatt. He should have just lied, said that he was fine despite the original shock. But here he is, crying over a situation he created. 

Maker, he thought he'd gotten over this. He hasn't even told Dorian yet, and now Wyatt knows. What was he _thinking_? 

He hears Wyatt move, but he still flinches when his brother turns him to face him. His back is pressed against the railing, and Wyatt’s hands are pinning him in place, forcing him to look at him. Gabe’s never felt more trapped. 

He opens his eyes to see Wyatt staring at him. He doesn't seem angry, more concerned, but Gabe learned a long time ago that looks could be deceiving. “Why didn't you tell me?” his brother asks, voice strained. 

“Mother said it, father agreed with her, and you're the one who told her in the first place,” he snaps. “Would you have listened? And even then, would you have _believed_ me? Or would you just have agreed because your little brother had always been wrong and- and _broken_? That throwing the “truth” in my face would fix me and-” 

“You don't need to _be_ fixed!” his brother shouts, cutting him off. “Maker, Gabriel, I've _never_ thought of you that way. You're my brother and I love you, regardless of what you do. I won't always understand, but I'll support you because that's what a family does. 

“I told mother about you and Liam because I was scared. I didn't know how to handle it, so I went to someone who I thought would. But if that's how she “handled” it, then that's ridiculous. You're your own man, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. And I hope that I'm just saying things you've already realized, but it's true. Acting like that goes against every principle she ever taught us of family and love.” 

It's Gabe’s turn to be surprised. “You- You don't hate me?” 

“No! There's so few things you could do to make me hate you, and you're a better person than anyone who would do those things.” 

“But when we were younger, you always pressured me into things, and you yelled at me all the time!” 

“Because I wanted you to do your best. Maybe I didn't go about it in the best way, but I thought it was either push you out of your comfort zone, or let you stagnate. You've always been a bright kid, just scared to take that final step.” 

“You were looking out for me?” Gabe says, breathless. His mind is racing at that, and he's a few moments from hyperventilating at the new information. 

Wyatt smiles, just a bit. “I do try to be a good big brother, even if it looks like I've managed to screw up royally.” 

Gabe really breaks down at that, burying his face in his brother’s neck. Wyatt's arms drop from his shoulders to wrap around his torso. 

He can't remember the last time that the two of them hugged. 

They stay like that for a good few minutes, waiting until Gabe’s eyes are dry and he can breathe without hiccuping. Gabe steps away first, awkwardly hugging his arms across his chest. He doesn't look at Wyatt until his brother clears his throat. 

“I'm sorry you've had to deal with all of this by yourself. And I'm more sorry that I was part of the problem,” he says. “But, uh, if you ever need to talk about it, I'm always up for it. Okay?” 

Gabe nods, and wipes his cheeks off. “Yeah. Thanks, Wyatt.” 

“Alright,” he says. “Hey, I should get going. Promised Jack I'd take him down to the stables. He keeps complaining about your stablemaster not letting him near anything.” 

Gabe smiles at that. “If he keeps away from anything’s mouth, he'll be fine. Dennet just doesn't want to deal with a bleeding kid.” 

“You _say_ that.” 

Gabriel shakes his head. “I'll see you later. I really ought to finish that letter, after all. Can't keep the Emperor waiting.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone needs anything tagged, please tell me! I don't think I'll get overly into what happened to Gabe as a kid, but I know even small things can make some folks uncomfortable (or worse) and I want everyone to be happy and healthy! If I do end up writing anything nasty, I'll be sure to tag and mention it before the chapter. But I might not think of something, so just let me know.


End file.
